An evening of physical assault

by Katie on October 5, 2010

It is well established by now that, when deciding which traits I would have, God did not gift me with any sort of natural grace. Or even good control of my appendages, for that matter.

Sunday evening, Brandon and I were settling in on the couch for some good ol’ laptop TV for the first time in forever, and I let loose with a fury of physical assault.

First, as he was lying down, my elbow came in some sort of contact with his face.

Then, as I was adjusting the laptop on a pillow in my lap, I attempted to sling it around with one hand. I slung it alright. Right into his forehead.

Seriously. It made quite the “cracking” sound when it came into contact. I think the laptop might have taken the brunt of the damage, though, because later, once both of us could stop laughing/whining/apologizing all at the same time, the only trace of a mark I could find was no longer than my pinky fingernail. Despite Brandon’s insistence that he must be bleeding profusely judging by the sound of impact.

But it didn’t stop there.

As I was trying to comfort the forehead wound, my hand went flying to his face, and nearly poked out an eyeball. Or a nose. Take your pick. It jammed into his face, anyway.

Finally, Brandon exclaimed, “I’m just trying to come in here and love you and I’m being physically assaulted!”

Eventually, I regained control, and we were able to watch our show in peace.

With Brandon still checking for blood every few minutes.

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